Seit Otar fort ist

"Since Otar Left (Depuis qu'Otar est parti...)" deals heartbreakingly humanistically with many of the same political and family issues that "Goodbye, Lenin!" treats for humor -- today's ironic adjustment to capitalism in former U.S.S.R. satellites, the cross-generational responsibilities of those who lived under the Big Lies, and filial love.

With dialogue in French, Georgian, and Russian, debut writer/directer Julie Bertucelli focuses on a Francophile household of an earthy grandmother, mother, and daughter in Georgia and their relationships to the dead, absent, and present men who are satellites in their lives.

While there's reminders of O. Henry's "The Gift of the Magi" and "The Last Leaf," not a single character is a cliche or dumb and none of their decisions is predictable. The audience literally holds its breath to see each woman's reactions as their emotional predicaments get more complicated in a weave of their own making.

The actresses, from 21 to 90 years old, brilliantly convey the complex emotional see saw.

A simply beautiful movie that's one of the best of the year.

It is very difficult to define this film. In fact, every definition is fake because the essence of words or gestures is ineffable.

Otar may be a type of Godot. The incarnated hope, the symbol of filling or image of any victim.

The three women- variant of Tchekov's "Three sisters".

But the reality is not so easy. In East Europe of Communist era, The Occident was the Heaven in all senses. It was the lost Paradis, the normality, the escape. A part of this wonderful world was shield against the daily nightmare. The fall of Communism was not the solution. Occident is a form of chimera not like education or mentality's result but like the personal treasure.

The film is not a moral lesson or image of ex-Sovietic country in transition to European values. It is not an Andre Makine's page. It is only a short life's story and description of a subtle escape. It is slice of dream's rules, descending in past who remains only present and future.

Esther Gorintin's acting is magnificent. A powerful character with a victim's mask, a fragile grandmother for who the life is not only fight or fear, past memories or sweet desire but a form of world's contemplation.

In fact, Eka is the Ada's image. And Otar's death- solution of interior crisis of every character. The end of life in nostalgic universe.

"Since Otar Left" is about three generations of Georgian women (an old women, her daughter, and her granddaughter) who live in austerity in an old flat in Georgia. The grandmother looks forward to letters she receives from her only other offspring, a son Otar, who is working in Paris. When Otar dies unexpectedly, the two younger women intercept the bad news and hatch a plan to keep the letters and the happiness they bring coming to the old woman. As the film develops this meager plot and we watch the women trudge through their mundane daily activities we are unaware of a more significant plot developing before our eyes with both plots culminating suddenly at the film's end.

Those who prefer a steady diet of the usual commercial Hollywood film products will likely find "Since Otar Left" a monotonous film of little consequence. However, those who enjoy the people stories of French cinema with their natural and finely nuanced studies of human nature, this sensitive, plaintive, and charming gem is a fly-on-the-wall look at a slice-of-Georgian-life which should not be missed. (A-)

With explicit themes such as poverty, exile, old age and death, 'Since Otar Left' does not exactly make a pitch as light entertainment; and a subtle screenplay that wrings every last note of poignancy from its basic scenario could be seen to aggravate matters even further. But as well as its script, this film has other merits, including fine cinematography and excellent performances from its small cast. Perhaps what's best of all is the way that it combines universal themes with the particulars of its situation, in the former Soviet republic of Georgia. The characters' own story reflects (and is indeed part of) the story of the country as a whole; and that is the story of the death, and eventual rebirth, of hope itself. This is a film that isn't always easy viewing, but it's also worth sticking with.

[See IMDb home page for this film for cast names-they aren't known in the U.S.]

Consistently interesting and often moving, first-time director Julie Bertucelli brings to the screen a sometimes humorous, often sad story about three women - grandmother, mother and daughter - living in Georgia (the Georgia that was part of the USSR). No one is starving here but a workers' paradise it isn't either.

The white-haired grandmother is bent and saddled with a heart problem. Living with her in a small but neat apartment boasting many shelves of French books in fine bindings are her daughter, Marina, widow of a soldier killed in the Soviet Union's Afghanistan debacle, and Ada, a student in her late teens or early twenties. She isn't a great beauty but her sensitive face reflects a growing intelligence and a wide range of feelings. All three speak French fluently and each has an emotional attachment to France. The grandmother boasts that the family managed to hide the tomes from "the Bolsheviks."

Notwithstanding her love of France, grandma pines for the good old days of Stalin where everything currently out of kilter would have been fixed by Uncle Joe. She goes as far as to claim she can prove the dictator never ordered anyone killed. There's a surprisingly large number of older Russians and people from former Soviet republics who still maintain that view today.

Otar is the grandmother's beloved son, a Moscow-trained doctor who left Georgia to work, illegally, in construction in France. Writing or phoning regularly, and occasionally sending money, was his habit until, near the beginning of the film, Marina learns he has been killed in an on-the-job accident.

Marina and Ada grieve intensely by themselves. Marina comes up with the terrific(!) idea to keep the news of Otar's demise from the old lady. Her assumption is that her mother, who lived through The Purges and The Great Patriotic War, would die upon hearing the awful news. Not too hard to imagine the complications that can arise from such a scheme with the risk of disclosure of the truth hanging like a cheap suit. Ada is impressed into writing fulsome letters from Otar which his mother never seems to recognize as bogus, even when looking at them.

Things become more complicated, not surprisingly. This isn't the most original plot ever. But then grandma shocks and amazes Marina and Ada with tickets for a Paris vacation to see Otar.

The trip allows the story to continue to an unexpected, satisfying and very lovely ending (which I won't, of course, reveal).

This film is less about a missing and mourned son than it is about inter-generational dynamics among three women who have a very deep and honest love for each other. And it's also a reminder of how resilient people can be when they must. Ada is torn between two worlds but she isn't neurotic or destructive-she's quietly finding her own way. Marina is resigned to life with a supportive, kind boyfriend who cares for her but who she says she can't love. But she isn't cold or exploitative-she seems like a lot of fun when she's with him. And grandma, her devotion to Stalin notwithstanding, is a rock. A realistic one at that.

I hope to see more from Ms. Bertucelli soon.

9/10